Friendship by Another Name
by Deadly Haven
Summary: Craig and Tweek are one of South Park's signature (and fake) gay couples. But it's been six years now; their farce will have to come to an end eventually, right?


**A/N: I'm at work, bored and have nothing to do. I present my time wasting drabble. I'll write more if I come up with any long term ideas. Which I suck at.**

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My fingers moved at lightning speed as I pressed buttons and maneuvered my character across the screen. I glanced over at Tweek, who was shaking as he mashed buttons and lunged back and forth in whatever direction his character moved in. I nearly smiled at the stupid sight and quickly looked back at the screen and pressed a final button, slamming Tweek's character into the ground, followed by a large, red "K.O." flashing on the screen.

"Shit!" he said, angrily shaking the controller which had already been shaking in his always-trembling hands.

"That's 5–0."

"No fair! You've had this game for like, a week now. You've clearly got an advantage."

"Sucks to be you," I replied nonchalantly.

Tweek jumped at the sound of his phone chiming. He picked it up and looked at the new message, then frowned slightly. "Agh, I got to go, man."

"No problem," I said, getting up and walking him to the door.

"I'll see you tomorrow at school," he said as he walked out the door, briefly stopping to turn around and wave at me.

"Later, babe," I said, waving back. I closed the door, then walked back to my console and switched to single player mode.

I heard the door click open, immediately followed by the sound of my sister bitching.

"Well, I don't care if that's what she said," Tricia yammered as she walked over to the TV and sat angrily onto the couch—I don't know how a person can angrily sit, but somehow, Tricia managed to. "She bought that dress the _day_ after I said I was going to save up my allowance to buy it. I mean, who does that? So you tell her that she can act like a _real_ friend and return the dress, or she can just go find another friend!"

She hung up the phone and then let out venomous growl.

"Craig, turn off your game. I want to watch TV."

"And I want to play video games."

"You must've been playing it for hours now! I just passed your _boyfriend_ walking up the street, and I know you can't resist showing off anything new you get."

She always emphasized "boyfriend". At first, she did it when she was little just to tease me, but it seemed to have become an unconscious habit overtime.

I flipped her off.

"You stupid—" She gave up on whatever she was going to say, deciding I wasn't worth it, and trudged up the stairs and into her room, slamming the door behind her.

Boy, did I miss the days when she was a little kid and slightly less of a bitch.

My sister never really cared that I was "gay". She actually had no clue what the word meant when it first came up and had to get it explained to her by our mom. Tricia had been accepting, as little kids generally are.

My family and pretty much everyone in town were accepting of me and my boyfriend.

Except "boyfriend" had a different meaning when it came to Tweek and me. At first, it meant "dude I was forced to pretend to be gay with so that people would stop bitching". Then, it meant "friend". Now, it means "best friend". We've been boyfriends for six years now. What was originally a pain in the ass had eventually become a fact of life. It was a good thing neither of us had had a real interest in any particular girl in the time we've been dating. Not that it would be a problem if we had. The two of us had a plan; when one of us developed a serious crush, we'd break up (less dramatically this time), then whichever of us had the crush would wait a while, and then come out as bi.

It was a solid plan. I was the one who came up with it, and Tweek had had no problem with it. Not that either of us had any crush when we agreed on it, but it was bound to happen eventually. Eventually, this weird thing we had going on would have to come to an end. I gritted my teeth.

"K.O.! You lose!" the game announcer said as red text flashed on the screen.

"Fuck you," I said, flipping it off.


End file.
